


The Choice Was Mine (I Didn't Think Enough)

by Zoe13



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Anorexia, Eating Disorder, M/M, Sad, Self Harm, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-10 23:03:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4411322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoe13/pseuds/Zoe13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Really, Ryan had spent his life trying to protect people from the mess that was him. </p><p>Now he was down to the last person. And he couldn't protect himself from- well, himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The bath water has gone from swirling red to brown. Ryan doesn't care. His hipbones jut out of the water and his skin- Ryan still doesn't care. He nearly hit an artery and would have just let the blood completely leave him if he had. But Ryan still doesn't care.

Apathy is his default setting these days. 

He lives ten minutes away from Brendon Urie. Fuck, Ryan might care a little.

He looks dully at his slashed arms. They sting but he notices the sting in his eyes more. He hasn't cried in a long time- maybe years, maybe since he made the hardest decision of his life and saved Brendon Urie from Ryan Ross. He's toxic, he's so, so toxic and it's his job to make sure he doesn't infect anyone else. 

He suddenly can't stand the sight of his mutilated limbs and he turns to stare at the wall, the brown water sloshing. 

The paint is peeling from the cheap drywall and Ryan relates to it. He's not feeling poetic. He just feels like trash. If what he did was right, why does it still hurt so many years later? And why the hell is he still around? 

When his shaking gets too bad, he drains the bathtub and steps out, staining his towel as he dries himself. The clothes he pulls on are not flattering and the only thing on his face is drying tear tracks. He's not the same Ryan Ross. 

He steps on the scale, calculating and then subtracting the weight of the clothing. He smiles faintly at the shrinking number and wonders if the blood loss helped. He's feeling faint and he tumbles into bed. 

He ignores the phone on the nightstand. He knows there's nothing to see. He's alone in the world, which he alway thought (knew, he meant knew) was best.

But he's so fucking alone. 

A loud sob tears from his throat and then suddenly he's screaming. He's a failure, a waste, he's worthless, he's _alone_. And of all of the people he pushed away, he longs the most for Brendon, the man living ten minutes away, the man who once saved him, the man he fell in love with and then had to save from himself. The man who now hates him. 

He's tearing at his hair, the scream rattling his protruding ribcage. His arms tense and he's bleeding again. He can't take it, he can't fucking take it- he's toxic and he's so, so _alone_. 

Years of dry eyes finally break the dam and he can't see, can't do anything but cry in self pity for the life he threw away and wants to end. There is no point anymore. He is alone and meaningless. He is insignificant to the man that was his world and there is nothing left for him. 

There's so much blood. He fumbles for his phone and calls the first number. 

Fuck, it's still Brendon. 

He changes his mind, follows the dark spots at the edge of his vision. He's falling, sliding from the bed and hitting the floor. The phone land next to him, mocking as it rings and flashes Brendon's name. 

Ryan wants to die. 

" _Hello?_ "

Brendon is hesitant. But he answered. Ryan is paralyzed. Then suddenly he finds the strength to drag the device to him. 

" _Ryan, is that- are you there?_ "

It's his one chance to apologize. It's his one chance to let someone know what he thought just before he died. 

"I'm so sorry, Brendon, s-so fucking sorry." His words are slurring. He's losing consciousness.

" _Ryan, what's wrong?_ " And really, they're breaking years of silence just for Brendon to worry about him? Ryan can't pull himself together. He does muster the strength to put into words all he feels he needs to say. 

"I'm so sorry that I left because I know it-it hurt you but I-" he's losing breath, losing blood, "I'm toxic, Bren, and you- you don't deserve that." 

He's still crying, he thinks he's going to die any moment, lose consciousness and then bleed out the rest of the way.

" _Yeah, it hurt, but we can talk about that another time. What's going on? You sound terrible, Ryan._ " 

And what the hell has Ryan done to deserve this? A chance to hear Brendon's voice before he's gone and to hear sympathy rather than anger. 

"We-we can't talk again. But...thank you...I-" 

He has one more breath left in him. He's got nothing left to lose. 

"I love...you."

" _Ryan? Ryan, where are you? Give me a chance to properly yell at you, you jerk. Come on_." Brendon seems to know what's going on- he sounds desperate, like he knows and like he _cares_. Ryan must be halfway to heaven. In all these years where Brendon hated him, Ryan thinks that maybe Brendon understood that Ryan wasn't happy either. 

If he'd survived this he'd probably have written a song. Something tragic, maybe called it something like-

fade to black.


	2. Chapter 2

Ryan's first emotion is one of surprise. There had been a lot of blood, yet he's still here. 

Except 'here' isn't home. Not that his lonely dwelling could be called a 'home.' Home had always been Brendon- Brendon, who is sitting in the chair by the hospital bed looking as beautiful as ever. 

"You know," Brendon says, "you get these ideas in your head that are bad for everyone involved and you make yourself follow them through." 

Ryan can't argue that, not really. "Why am I here?" He asks instead.

"Because you passed out and I called 911. Gave them your number and they traced your phone." Brendon is disconcertingly calm. "That's beside the point, however. I'm here to lecture you."

Ryans shoulders droop and he sighs.

"Look, Brendon, I know the band-"

"What the _hell_ were you thinking?!" Brendon explodes. "You're in here because you _tried to kill yourself_ , because you cut deeper than you apparently usually do. Though not by much, since you've got some nasty scars that should have had stitches. You're actually starving to death. God, Ryan, you've always been skinny, but you look like you're gonna waste away! What the hell have you been doing this whole time?"

"I-"

"No, wait." Brendon holds up a hand. "Start with why the fuck you _left_."

Ryan can't see that well, his vision is blurring from unshed tears, but he can see that Brendon's usual wall of sarcasm is suddenly nowhere to be seen. He wants to figure this out- Brendon is giving him a chance. 

"I'm toxic. I destroy everything. And you- you meant too much to me. I couldn't let it happen to you." 

"How are you toxic?" Brendon just stares at him. 

"The only thing I did right was start the band with you, and I didn't think something I was part of could last, but I saw how much it meant to you, how much you needed it, and I walked away. And I was right- it's done great without me." 

Ryan's too resigned to sound bitter. It's just fact. Panic thrived without him. 

"I haven't." Brendon looks so tired and lost that Ryan almost believes him. "We were so close and then you were just gone. You weren't toxic, I don't understand what you mean by that. We were great, we had something really great. How could you being in the band make it fall apart?"

Brendon is basically pleading for a full explanation and Ryan gives up.

"I was in love with you," he says quietly. Brendon's eyes go wide in shock, but there's no horror or disgust so Ryan continues. "You made me happy and that terrified me. Why should I get to be happy? I couldn't make you happy."

"You did," Brendon whispers. "You made me happy."

Ryan just stares at him. How could he have made Brendon happy? He was toxic. 

Toxic, like his dad had always said.

"When you left, I thought you felt like you were too good for us," Brendon continues. "That you had moved on to bigger things. I thought that maybe you'd realized I was in love with you and didn't want to be near me."

Ryabs shock only deepens. "In- in love with me? But Sarah-"

"I loved Sarah to an extent." Brendon sighs. "I thought I could make her happy. Apparently I couldn't."

He doesn't sound heartbroken, just a little regretful. "But I loved you in a totally different way. In a better, scarier, stronger way."

Ryan can't open his mouth, can't move his tongue. What has he thrown away because he was afraid?

"I'm sorry Brendon." It finally doesn't sound empty. 

"This has made me realize that no matter how miserable I was, you were worse. How long have you been like this?" and Brendon is looking at him like that again. He's looking at Ryan with what he suddenly recognizes as love and concern, the look he gave him when they were young and just starting out. When they were in love and didn't know it. 

"I don't know." Ryan says, and it's truth. He feels like his entire worldview has just crumbled at his feet. He feels a fluttering in his chest of something he hasn't felt in a long time. Hope. 

"What-" Brendon's voice fades and he gently touches Ryan's bandaged wrist. "What made you do this to yourself?"

Ryan can't look him in the eye. "I hate myself."

"Funny," Brendon says, "we used to feel the same about most things." He gets up and sits on the edge of the bed, taking Ryan's thin hand in his. "I don't understand why. I would say that you've made some mistakes, but I see now that they were intended to do good, and that they hurt you this much." He runs his thumb over the gauze tenderly. "I've made my own mistakes. Cutting you off completely, not checking in or trying to reconcile."

"Why would you? Things were better without me." Ryan tries not to enjoy the contact too much. Brendon will have to exit his life again soon. What if he's not even there to begin with? Ryan could be on some strong medication right now. 

"They really really weren't. God, Ryan, I've missed you so much." 

Brendon grew up after Ryan left, but right now the Brendon holding his hand is young Brendon, crying because Ryan fucked something up. 

"I've missed you too," Ryan admits, voice hoarse. "Out of everyone I drove away, you were the hardest. You never left my mind. I-" he might as well go for it, get it out. "I still love you. I thought I was going to die listening to your voice and I was alright with that."

Brendon smiles, Ryan made him _smile_ again, and interlocks their fingers. 

"Let's rewind," he says. "Sarah is out of my life, you love me, and I love you. And there's room in the band."

Ryan's world drops out from under him and he gapes at Brendon. "Are you saying-"

"I'm saying that I love you and I want you back in the band. You're going to get better and then you're going to help me make Panic even better. And I'm going to love you so much." 

"I-" Ryan can't talk and he can't see because he's crying and what has he done to deserve this? 

"No more hard feelings. We'll call up pay and present band members and we'll make peace. We're human, we're allowed to make mistakes- and we're allowed to fix them." Brendon looks almost giddy. 

"I thought I was going to die alone," is all Ryan can say. Brendon leans into his space, and it's the Brendon Ryan knew and loved. 

"Nope. I'm never letting you go again." 

When he kisses him, it doesn't feel new and exciting, it feels like coming home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh how did they get so OOC. Sorry.

**Author's Note:**

> This is actual trash but if you for some reason want more, comment and let me know. I might consider continuing it.


End file.
